No Sex

Last Friday night I was with my good friend. Larry, go home and have a few beers and watch a movie. His wife Lynn was out with some of her friends from work. Around eleven we had just finished the film and switched to a poker program at ESPN.

Lynn walked a few minutes later and it was clear she wasn’t feeling any pain. It’s obvious her night out drinking with the girls took her toll. Larry, Lynn and I are old and dear friends, so we talked for a while about what happened in our lives.

Walter knew his wife was a witch. And he knew her mother was also a witch. Once during a fight she turned him into a naked ‘doll man’ of 6 inches long for his wife and told him to get used to it when he was not man enough to keep his wife black! Veronica’s mother was a little racist. After Veronica turned him back to his slim, small self on the way back to town and apologized for what her mother did, he could say she was secretly happy with the experience!

Strange how life ends! As a big lawyer now pro bono work in court I ran into an old friend; well, actually I had hoped she would be my girlfriend in college.

Sally B was still beautiful at 35 and I recognized her first and when I said her name when she was in my office she laughed and said, TIMMY! I could never forget that beautiful body, and I think she could forget a skinny little nerd. Then we shared the usual old stories. Who married, who divorced.

Barb told the team this was gonna be her last year. They were an inspiration, given her confidence. Some would keep playing, she hoped, but what she really knew was they’d all do positive things. Some people could move and some would find new options to check. “Hello, girls. I went to basketball after mean coaches screamed for years to keep my hands off the ball.” They laughed. Carl was always surprised how she’d say “heck” to them when she meant “shit.”

Driving home, Carl was torn apart between shock and confusion. Kathy? There was no pretending that Barb had said anything else. Barb would have thoughts that aren’t exactly stuck. She wouldn’t have flown from projecting teenager fantasies. She talked to Andrea and Kathy wouldn’t lie to her best friend. Barb had spoken with knowledge that such things happen. Why shoot the messenger?

Fathers can’t think about their child, can they? It’s not natural. Maybe it’s biologically natural, but it can’t happen. It’s not good! Everyone knows that. It’s just wrong to have sex together. Sex is something…

When it was Barb’s work, the girls called her “Coach.” Carl was her assistant and the girls called him “Carl.” Barb knew soccer, knew how to make the kids work their asses and love them. Barb knew how to drop a corner kick off the net. Carl wasn’t really athletic, but was happy to walk around, the more encouraging. “Good job, Heather. But watch the out-of-bounds.

On the field, Barb was also “Coach” for Carl. “You know, Coach,” he’d confirm that he shipped his group on crossovers. “Not until you see the ball in the air!” Said with certainty. He was hoping the girls knew that themselves. Barb, ponytail pushed the back of her account cap, gave him a thumb up.